


survive the tide

by richiewheeler (jormaperalta)



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, au: no supernatural elements, high school!au, mentions of child abuse, more tags to come, no hawkins lab!au, the real villain is man
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2018-12-31 06:59:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12127032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jormaperalta/pseuds/richiewheeler
Summary: After being rescued from a foster home run by a horrible man, "Eleven" is adopted by Chief Jim Hopper and tries to make Hawkins her home. But the schoolchildren are mean and she's having a tough time fitting in, plus she needs a job for the summer.Then, she gets an opportunity to babysit Holly Wheeler, and finds her life entwined in AV Club President Mike Wheeler's life as he navigates his last summer before he graduates from Hawkins HighAs they start a summer romance, Eleven's past starts to catch up with her as Mike's future slams into his present. Can they survive the summer? Can their relationship?





	1. Prologue:

Mike forces the rest of his coffee down his throat, even though it’s too cold at this point. He’s too shy to ask for a fourth refill, considering it’s almost 9 o’clock at night. Hopefully, it’ll get him through this last little bit of studying.

But then Dustin smacks his head onto his history textbook. “Fuck. This,” He says, muffled by the pages. “Lucas,” His hand flails to hit their friend next to him. Lucas doesn’t look up from his own flashcards he’s flipping through. “Kill me,” He orders.

“No,” Lucas replies, crossing through a line on the card and scribbling a better statement. Mike snags a fry from their communal plate and keeps working on the marginalia in his copy of the book.

Dustin turns his head slightly so only his cheek is pressed against the pages. Mike and Will share a look as Dustin points out enticingly, “But if you kill me, then you won’t have to take Ashburn’s final tomorrow.”

Lucas considers, then shakes his head. “Nah, man. Then I’d lose my scholarship.”

Will perks up, “You got your scholarship already?” Mike looks up, ready to celebrate. 

But then Lucas quickly shakes his head, “Not yet, I don’t find out until September. But if I murder this one-” He pokes Dustin with his pencil. “Then I definitely won’t.”

Dustin rests back against the seat, his long, curly hair obscuring most of his face. “Glad to know your hypothetical scholarship is more important to you than my well-being.”

“How is murdering you helping your well-being?” Lucas asks incredulously.

“I’m _suffering_ , you dick!” 

“Don’t yell,” Will says, eyes darting to see if they’re being watched even though there’s like no one in the diner.

Dustin suddenly slaps his hand on the table and they all jump. “Guys! We should play Dungeons and Dragons this summer!”

Mike lets out a ‘whoosh’ of breath, “Man, we haven’t done that in years.”

“Yeah, because we’re not 12,” Will laughs, doodling in his own notebook.

“Shut up, Wizard,” Lucas says, using a nickname that's stuck even though them playing the game hasn't. Will sticks his tongue out. “I think it sounds fun.”

Mike can’t help but feel surprised. Not that he’s really thought about it until now, but things have changed so much since they were 13, probably most noticeably Lucas. No longer “Midnight”, he’s Lucas “Slingshot” Sinclair, star pitcher of the Hawkins High Tigers’ baseball team. He still comes to AV club meetings every once in a while and they’re all still friends, but you know. It’s different.

Dustin’s changed too. Most of his teeth have come in, but some jerks still call him ‘Toothless.’ But he doesn’t “let those bastards get me down” and not only is he the Vice President and Treasurer of the AV Club, he is also in the drama club and on the debate team with his girlfriend Max Montgomery, who will debate anyone at basically anything.

Will divides his time between art (both class and club) and the AV club as Secretary. Even at this moment, he’s covered in paint and pottery clay because he always is, even though he has work in ten minutes.

Mike, meanwhile, hasn’t felt like he’s changed now that he thinks about it. He has more friends than just the three people sitting around him and he’s gotten pretty tall. But he’s still president of the AV Club, except he now also helps with drama club stuff because Dustin makes him and it’s kind of fun. Plus, he’s gotten really into English class as well as science, along with all the college prep he’s doing.

Hit with a sudden epiphany, he finds himself missing the stories, missing the “action,” and missing the preparation of the D&D matches they used to plan.

“Yeah, we should,” Mike says, finally really speaking up. “I still have all our stuff.”

“You better,” Dustin says, pointing at him with a limp fry. “We have all summer, Wheeler. You make sure the story’s great before we have to deal with college apps and we all die inside. This is our last fun summer, and the game needs to be perfect.”

“But no pressure,” Will jokes.

Benny walks up to them with the check bucket. “You boys ready for the check yet?” He says, then turns to Will. “Do you mind starting cleanup now? We should be getting the late night rush soon and I want to make sure we’re good. Don’t need the health department up my ass again.”

“On it, Boss.” Will says. All four of them dig into their pockets and pull out crumpled dollars to settle the bill and snag the last fries off the plate.

As they all scoot out of the bench seats, organize their school supplies, and throw on their jackets for the leftover chill, Lucas grabs Mike’s wrist to read his watch. “Shit! I promised my dad we’d go over my fastball.”

“I’ll drive you,” Dustin says. Only Dustin and Mike were able to both get their licenses _and_ get a car. Mike has Nancy’s old car that she doesn’t need anymore and Dustin got a secondhand truck. Lucas has a car that he can only use for school and practice, and Will just uses his new bike or tags along with one of them or Jennifer Hayes, another art club person. “I gotta pick up Max anyway. We’re gonna see a movie.”

Lucas snorts, “Yeah, so you said like twenty times tonight.”

“Do you wanna hitchhike instead, Slingshot?” Dustin bites back and they both leave the diner laughing as Will reappears from behind the counter.

Mike smiles to himself and keeps organizing his study supplies, making sure he has everything set for when he studies at home. After he finishes, he starts organizing and stacking all the dirty dishes together so Benny doesn’t have another thing to worry about.

“Is Mr. Ashburn still teachin’ there?” Benny says, coming over with the black dish tray. They load it up with dirty dishes.

“He is,” Mike answers, unable to help the face he makes.

Benny chuckles, “You have my pity, Wheeler. That sonuvabitch was hard as hell. And thanks for clearin’ dishes. Wanna job?”

“I- seriously?” He can’t help but clarify, notoriously bad for reading situations. Plus, besides his studies, his family and friends, he doesn’t have that much planned for his summer.

“Yeah seriously,” Benny crosses his arms over his torso. “I need another pair of hands, since apparently this season will be big for the tourists and shit. And you seem to get how it goes without too much training. You interested?”

“Yes,” Mike says, impulsively. He needs cash. He has time. He likes Benny, plus Will is already here most of the time. “Yeah, definitely.” 

“Thanks, Wheels,” Benny punches him in the shoulder. Mike rubs at it. The guy is _strong_. “I’ll let you start after finals are over.”

“Do you need help tonight?” Mike offers. “My curfew isn’t until ten.”

“Hey, big spender,” The bearded man jokes. “Yeah, sure, help Will out in back. If you have a question, ask us.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Cut that bullshit. First rule. I’m Benny or Hammond or hey you.” 

“Yes, Hey You.” 

Benny points a finger at him, but he’s smiling behind it. “You got a smart mouth. Good.” He picks up the tray of dishes then shoves it at Mike’s chest.

Mike “oofs” hard, but he catches the tray.

“Rule two,” Benny says as he walks back towards the grill. “Don’t drop shit.”

+

As soon as Benny places the burger in front of her, Eleven eats it ravenously, a habit from her days at the Home. You never knew when you’d get food, or if it’d be good. Benny’s food is constant and good.

Plus, she had to go straight from Hawkins High to the station, where Chief gave her some filing to do after homework, but no food because he had a robbery to deal with. So she’s hungry.

“Did you have a good day at school?” Chief asks, mouth full of fries. They’ve only been living together since January, and now that it’s nearing the end of April, they have a bit of a rapport.

Like most days, she doesn’t answer. Mostly because the burger is more important, but also because school was no better today than it has been the other days. Her teachers are still mean, she still doesn’t look like the other girls with their pretty hair and well-done makeup (she apparently looks like “a kid’s troll doll with crayon on its face”) and she still has no friends. She does well in classes, very well, but she “doesn’t engage in discussions” which means she gets poor participation.

At least when finals are over in a couple days, she’ll be done. She’s actually excited for the idea of Summer, not just the warm weather and being outside. Even though she’s probably going to be helping Chief at the station, the movies she’s been watching tell her that Summer is when things happen.

She’s not sure what exactly, but she’s excited for the prospect.

Chief says, “I’m just tryin’ to help you, Jane.” He’s always calling her Jane, but the name means nothing to her. For so long, she was 832011, then just 011, then Eleven. “I’ve been talking about... you to other people,” He continues.

She can’t help but interrupt. “Not to me?” She asks.

Quick like lightning, he smirks, but then he goes back into his poker face. “That’s what I’m doing now, kid. I think you need a job for this summer.”

“Like police chief?” Her mouth is full of burger, but he seems to understand her. Plus, he doesn’t punish her for talking with her mouth full. That she can definitely like about him.

“Kind of,” He scratches his neck. “There are kid jobs. Station jobs are are for adults.”

“I file at the station,” She says.

“You do. And you do it well. But you need to socialize with other kids-”

“I did,” She says, her voice feeling heavier. She remembers the other kids at the home. They all blend together in her fading memory, marked with numbers and shaved heads and bruised skin but the faces are blurry. But some stick out like roses against bushes. Mostly their screams, but their faces are there too.

At the thought, she scratches through the long-sleeved shirt from one of the donation boxes where her tattoo is. Papa had to keep track of them somehow, and her skin will always bear the mark of 011.

“Kids out here,” He gestures vaguely. “Kids not from... where you’re from.”

Eleven drops her burger then looks down at her plate. “Why?” She’s quiet.

“I’m worried about you, kid,” He says, and something about the way he’s talking is causing her to go still. “You barely talk, you don’t have any friends-”

“Flo,” She says, eyes darting back up, peeking through the wavy strands of hair that fall into her face.

He smiles at her, “Again, I’m talking about kids your own age. You have a friend in Flo, but you need to talk to kids from school.”

“They’re mean,” She whispers and her hands play with the ends of her hair. Papa used to make her keep it shaved near her head for hygiene but Chief lets her grow it out. She can't wait until it's like the other girls’, all long and soft.

Something flashes across his face, but she can’t decipher it. But it reminds her of the look she’d give the other children if they were getting punished.

“But there can be nice people,” Chief tells her. Then he looks over. “Like Benny.”

Eleven looks over to see Benny setting down their order of ice cream in front of them. “Chocolate for Hawkin’s finest, and strawberry for Eleven.” She likes the way he says ‘Eleven,’ like Chief says Jane, like it’s a name. Not at all like how Papa said it.

“You hirin’, Hammond?” Chief asks, digging into his ice cream.

“The bastards at the station finally firin’ your sorry ass?” Benny says, scribbling on a notepad.

Chief snorts, “Not today, anyway. I’m looking for the kid.” He points his spoon at Eleven. “You got any open spots?”

“Sorry, man, just gave it to the Wheelers’ son,” Benny jerks his head to the boy behind the counter, scrubbing it down.

“Ain't that shitty timing,” Chief says with a smile. Benny makes a noise agreement.

But Eleven is studying the dark-haired Wheeler boy with the intense, focused look on his face as her fingers fall from her hair. She doesn’t remember his first name, but she knows he goes by Wheeler, his last name. Another part of the people at school’s lives she doesn’t understand. She’d love to have a first name that felt like hers. Why give that up?

Wheeler’s tall, almost as tall as Chief. His hair is shaggy and he has freckles, and Eleven likes his face a lot. But he has friends, and doesn’t talk to her. Not that she’s tried, but he hasn’t either.

He catches her staring, but she doesn’t look away. She never realized his eyes are so dark against his face, making them even larger almost. He makes a slight face, his freckly cheeks turning red, and then goes to the back of the diner.

“Good for you,” Benny says to her and she nods. “I’ll let you know if I overhear anythin’, Hopp.”

“Benny,” She reaches over and tugs on his shirt. He stops leaving and looks at her. “Are we friends?”

“You bet your ass,” Benny says, he ruffles her hair. At first, she winces at the sudden touch but then she relaxes. Benny doesn't hurt her. She knows he never would.

“Stop swearing around her,” Chief rolls his eyes.

“When you do,” Benny hits Chief on the head with his dishtowel lightly, causing Eleven to smile. He smiles back at her, waves, and then he goes to the back.

“We’ll find you something, alright?” Chief says, looking at her very focused.

She nods, “Alright.” But she wasn't sure she believed it yet. 


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eleven gets a job.

Mike kills his engine as he parks in front of the Byers’ house. He turns to look at his friend in the passenger seat. “Hopefully, we’ll survive the final tomorrow.”

Will laughs. “I’m not holding my breath, but thanks for all the help.” 

“No problem. And thanks for the job.” 

Will shakes his head. “You got _yourself_ that job. I did jack shit.”

This time, Mike laughs. “No way, Benny just threw it at me.”

“Because you’re rad,” Will says, running his fingers through his hair. Mike knows he keeps putting off a haircut because money is a bit tight, so he hopes that when summer officially starts, he’ll be able to take more shifts. “Benny _loves_ his diner. He only gave me the job at first because my mom basically guilted him into it, but now he likes me, and even you guys. Him hiring someone isn’t something he takes lightly. So you shouldn’t either.”

Mike is silent for a moment, not sure how to respond. “I’ll keep that in mind,” He ends up saying. “Want me to pick you up early tomorrow and we can go over stuff for Ashburn’s final?”

“Sure, thanks,” Will says as he gets out.

“Kiss your mom goodnight for me,” Mike calls out with a playfully wicked tone.

“Don’t be a dick, Mike!” Will shouts back, but he’s laughing as he steps onto his porch.

Mike rolls his eyes and drives back to Maple Street.

As he enters his home, Mike tries to be quiet, because it’s shortly after ten and he’s kinda late, plus Holly should be asleep already.

He gently places his keys in the key bowl and goes to the kitchen to grab some milk when he sees his mother doing dishes.

He staggers backwards and she spins around, almost dropping her plate while he almost drops his textbook. “Jesus, Mike, you scared me,” She admonishes him.

“Sorry, Mom,” He offers, heartbeat working its way to slow down.

She looks at the clock, “You’re a bit late.”

“I was dropping Will off from the diner.” 

“Oh, that’s nice of you. Next time, do you mind using Benny’s phone to let me know? I don’t want to worry. I almost called the Chief.” 

“Will do,” He grabs a banana from the fruit bowl and goes to head to his room but she calls him back.

“You don’t have much planned for the summer, do you?”

He goes to answer, but she instead keeps talking, “Because my obligations at the country club just expanded and your father will be traveling out of town more and Nancy’s still in New York, so I was hoping you’d babysit Holly throughout the day.”

Mike winces then seethes, “I- I’m so sorry, Mom. Benny Hammond just gave me a job and I-”

Karen exhales, and she gets this pinched look on her face, and he can practically see her trying to problem solve. “No, that’s great. Great, I’m happy for you, honey.” 

“Could’ve fooled me,” Mike automatically mutters but one look from his mom has him mumbling an apology. “He needs the extra help this summer, and apparently it’s a big deal he asked me-” 

“I won’t ask you to quit, Michael,” She says reassuringly. “Unless it impacts your test prep this summer. I can find someone else to babysit.” 

“Are you sure?” He asks. 

“I’m positive,” She says. Even though she seems sincere, he can tell it’ll be something to add to her load.

He clears his throat, “So, uh, what’s going on with the country club?”

His mom smiles, “You're looking at the new head of seasonal affairs.”

“Congrats, Mom!” He hugs her and she laughs. “That's awesome.”

“Thank you,” She smiles. “And congrats on the job.”

“It's just clearing dishes,” Mike says, because the way she says ‘job’ would be akin to how someone says ‘high-paying corporate executive officer” in the ways of maternal pride.

“It’s ‘just’ another thing to add to the college applications,” She corrects him. “Plus, it’s always good to have cash, and retail experience. I told you, being a waitress was how I met your father.” Her hands are drying themselves on a dishtowel, which might mean she’s in the mood to tell him the entire thing. She always is ready to tell a story after drying the dishes. It's odd. 

“Yes, I’ve heard the story,” Mike says dutifully, because he has. So many times. To distract her, he changes the subject, “I’ll ask around my friends at school to see if they know any babysitters.” 

“Oh, I’d really appreciate it, Michael, thank you,” His mom kisses his cheek. “You should go to bed, you have a final tomorrow.” 

“Will do, Mom.” With that, he heads downstairs to his room in the basement. He had to help his dad with some renovations, but now it’s a decently private room for himself after Nancy moved out and Holly got her room instead and his room was converted to a guest room.

Mike changes into his typical pajamas of an AV club shirt and sweats but instead of going to bed, he goes to the back of the closet and digs through until he can find his old Dungeons and Dragons memorabilia.

After spreading it across the old playing table, Mike grabs the oldest polyhedral dice he owns, dark black with 14 sides that Lucas got him when they were eight, how old Holly is now. He considered teaching her, but while Holly is multifaceted in her interests, all the girls in her grade seem to only be into “girly” stuff so he didn’t want her to be bullied like he was.

Struck by an urge he hasn’t felt in years, he clutches the dice tight in his grip and thinks to himself, _If I roll a seven or higher, I made a good decision about working at Benny’s_.

He rolls and it falls off the edge of the table and he goes to try to find it without disturbing it.

After, like, way too long of looking, he finds it by the door to the laundry room.

It’s an eleven.

+

Eleven sits at chair next to Flo’s desk, reading _The Great Gatsby_ for summer reading. She finished her final early and Chief had Callahan pick her up so she’s lounging around the station.

The book itself is fine, but she _loves_ the idea of flapper dresses, even more so when Flo shows her a picture of her mother one wearing one in New York. She thinks the 1920s sound like a fun time to live in. 

The door opens, smacking against the wall, and she jumps up and drops the book. Chief calls her “jittery” and Flo calls her “skittish” but they both seem to mean that loud noises scare her.

“Hello Karen,” Flo greets, and Eleven looks up to see a woman with really pretty, dark hair and a girl that looks small like Eleven used to be, but with long blonde hair. Meanwhile, Eleven’s hair is taking its time growing out, only a couple inches long according to her ruler.

“Hi Flo,” The Karen woman greets, looking distracted. “I just wanted to hang up some fliers. Is that alright?”

“Of course! Go right ahead,” Flo says and Eleven goes to pick her book back up. When she looks off the floor, the little girl is now right in front of her.

Eleven recoils in her chair, even though she logically knows the girl is unlikely to cause her harm, but she can’t help it.

Now that she’s close, Eleven can see the girl’s eyes are dark blue, studying her intensely. “You’re the Chief’s daughter,” She says, but it sounds like a question. “I’ve heard about you. And that’s what I heard.”

Eleven hesitates, looking at the Chief’s office door, then looks back at the girl. She then nods, because she doesn’t know how else to describe what he is to her. He told her he was just gonna watch her until the trial or until they find another family. Neither of those things have happened yet, and it had been five months. 

“Right, you’re quiet,” The young girl says in response to the nod. “I heard that too. I’m Holly. Holly Wheeler. I’m 8 years old and I love books. Your name’s a number, right?”

Eleven nods again.

“Which one?”

“Eleven,” She answers.

Holly-Holly smiles, “At least it’s a cool number. I want to be eleven.”

“But that’s my name,” Eleven says, confused.

The kid giggles, but it’s not mean like the girls at school. Just a fun sound. “No, silly. I want to _be_ eleven, like the age. I’ll be eleven in two years and nine months. You’re an adult when you’re eleven.” 

“I’m not an adult,” Eleven tells her, thinking of all the times Papa would punish her as a kid and the way she’s a “minor, a child of the state” in almost all documents. She’s not an adult. “You have to be eighteen, I think.”

Holly-Holly makes a face. “Ew, that’s gross. And so far away!”

Eleven nods in agreement. Flo only uses that word when Callahan picks his nose in the precinct, but she thinks the word can apply here.

“What are you reading? I love books.” 

Eleven holds out the book, holding the her place with a bookmark that Powell gave her earlier. Gently, the girl takes it and looks through. “This looks weird. What’s it about?” 

Eleven had never heard the word ‘weird’ as a reason for more information. Just as a bad thing. Most of the kids at school call her “the Weirdo” or Psycho, and that makes them not want to hang out with her.

“It’s about Jay Gatsby, and his love for Daisy Buchanan,” Eleven explains. That’s what she’s gathered so far. Even though the narrator is Nick Carraway, he’s kind of boring and the story isn't much about him.

“Why is Daisy blue?” Holly-Holly asks, tapping on the cover. “That’s Daisy, right?”

Eleven smiles. There’s something warm about this kid. “I think. But she’s not blue, that’s the sky.”

Holly-Holly scrunches her lips to the side. “Well, they should have made that clearer.”

“Yes,” She agrees.

“Do you like it?” The younger girl sits down beside her on another chair that Powell calls “the perp chair.”

Eleven jerks a shoulder, a move she learned from Benny and Chief. “Heavy words, but it’s fun.”

“You should read it to me,” Holly-Holly says.

She feels her eyebrows rise on her face, “Why?”

“Because I like to be read to.”

Eleven thinks it over. It might be scary, but this is a schoolbook. It can’t be too bad, plus she finds she can’t really argue with Holly-Holly.

So she reads the book to the girl, making sure to keep her voice low enough not to disturb Flo, who’s in the break room now with Karen, or the officers, who don’t really do work anyway because “nothing happens in Hawkins,” or so they tell her.

Eleven is interrupted when the older woman calls out, “Holly!” And the girl looks up. “C’mon, it’s time to go.”

“Okay, Mom,” Holly says and waves at her, “Bye, Eleven! Thank you for reading to me.”

“You’re welcome.” Chief taught her to say that when someone says ‘thank you.’ “Thank you for listening.” 

Holly grins, and Eleven finally notices she’s missing a tooth. Then she hops off the chair and goes to leave. Just as her hand slips into the woman’s, Holly gasps. Eleven is afraid she’s hurt, but then the girl starts jumping.

“Mommy, Mommy! _Eleven_ should be my babysitter!”

Eleven freezes. She doesn’t want to sit on anyone.

The woman, Karen, laughs. “Eleven? What-” But then Holly points right at Eleven and she finds herself staring at the woman with the dark, pretty hair. Eleven sees that look flash on Karen’s face, one that makes her think of the kids at school when they saw her on the first day, with wide eyes that immediately go to the hair on her head.

“Eleven? You’re the girl that Chief Hopper adopted, right?” Karen asks, her head cocked to the side ever so slightly.

It feels like everyone is staring at her, so she can’t bring herself to explain. “He’s fostering her right now,” Flo says, coming back from the break room.

“Oh, right,” Karen says and then turns back to Eleven. “Are you interested in babysitting for us?”

“Babysitting?” Eleven asks. It doesn’t sound comfortable.

Holly walks back over to her and keeps bouncing, “We get to watch movies and eat mac and cheese and do each other’s hair and other stuff when my mommy and daddy are gone!”

Eleven’s eyebrows raise, that sounds too good to be true. She looks to Flo, because Flo knows lots of stuff.

Flo explains, “Babysitting is a job where you watch Holly here while her parents are out of the house. They pay you for your time, and you make sure she stays safe.”

Eleven thinks about it for a moment. Papa used to tell her she was good with the younger ones, and Chief said she needed a job, and to hang out with other kids...

“Yes,” She says.

“Yay!” Holly smiles and runs back to her mom.

“I hate to pressure you but do you want to start tonight?” Karen asks. “An engagement came up, and I would really appreciate it.”

Eleven nods. “Yes.”

“Fantastic, here is all the information,” She hands Eleven a flier, but she doesn’t have time to read it before the woman keeps talking, “And if you could come around 6 o’clock, I can go over everything with you. Thank you _so_ much. C’mon, Holly, we need to go.” 

“Bye Eleven! See you tonight!” Holly waves and then they’re both out the door.

“What’s going on out here?” Chief asks, stepping out with a donut and a cup of coffee.

Eleven says, “I got a job.” Because that’s what happened, wasn’t it?

Chief grins, and it makes her feel warm inside. “Hey, good for you, kid. I have to finish this report, but after we’ll get ice cream or somethin’ to celebrate.”

Eleven smiles, overcome with a warm feeling of accomplishment. But that may be ice cream anticipation.

She thinks it can be both.


	3. Chapter 2

“Thank Christ that shit is done,” Dustin says as he falls onto the grass dramatically.

Mike snorts as he sits down, “The final wasn’t even _that_ bad-”

“Boo!” His friends all hiss at him, half-assedly throwing ripped out grass and small pebbles at him. Mike just takes the onslaught, too tired to fight back or defend himself.

“Man, can you believe we’re done with junior year?” Will says, swinging on the swingset.

In an effort to celebrate without spending any money, they drove to the park after their last final before Mike and Will go to the diner (Mike for paperwork and training, Will for a shift), Dustin has a date with Max, again, and Lucas goes to a celebratory scrimmage game with a couple of his teammates. They were just kind of done with being “adults” so they decided Hawkins Hills Park was a perfect place to blow off some steam. Mike, Lucas and Dustin are just in the grass, but Will said he was going to “fully commit” and insisted on swinging on the swings.

“I repeat: ‘thank Christ that shit is done,” Dustin says. Lucas snickers and Will laughs but Mike just smiles.

“I don’t want to be a senior,” Lucas says after their reactions. “Why can’t we just graduate right now and says ‘fuck this’ to the whole thing?”

“And go to college _right now_?” Will snorts. “I am not prepared.”

“You’re not prepared for anything,” Lucas rolls his eyes.

“Take that back,” Will shouts dramatically, with a cheesy smile on his face, and tackles Lucas to the ground. The two of them shout at each other and roll around a few feet away from the sandbox.

“Is Max meeting us here?” Mike asks Dustin.

“Probably,” Dustin says, then moves an arm to rest across his eyes. “Can you get those fucks to shut up? I want to nap before my girl gets here.”

Mike leans back on his hands and doesn’t bother to help Dustin or stop Will and Lucas, who are winding down anyway, laughing.

In another moment lost in thought, Mike thinks about the fact Dustin has a girlfriend. Not that he shouldn’t, Dustin is a great guy and probably a great boyfriend, but he’s the only one of their little group dating.

Will dated Jennifer Hayes back freshman year, but that ended pretty quickly and now she’s dating Scott Winstead, one of Lucas’s teammates. They’re still on good terms and Will’s been dating Lucas since.

Lucas is one of the most popular baseball players and girls flirt with him all the time, but he obviously hasn’t dated any of them. Lucas and Will keep their relationship a secret, even though Will has been out since he dated Jen while Lucas is still in the closet.

While girls don’t ever really flirt with him, nor does he really flirt with anyone, he’s been on a date or two set up by Dustin and Max (and an even worse one set up by Nancy). But his mom keeps telling him he “hasn’t found his people yet.” Maybe he’ll date more in college. Maybe he’ll be a stud.

Before he even thinks about the consequences, Mike asks, “Do you think I’ll be a stud in college?”

He freezes as soon as the words leave his mouth. Why does his mouth work like that?

Dustin’s arm falls off his face and he turns to look at him. “Well, I think if you aren’t by then, you have no hope.”

Mike smacks his friend in the stomach, causing him to “oof!” in response.

Rubbing the mark, Dustin says, “Don’t ask stupid questions, Wheeler.” Then something wicked glints in his eye and he turns to Lucas and Will, who are still wrestling. “Hey guys, do you think Mike could get a girlfriend?”

Lucas and Will finally separate, flopping on the grass, now they’re all just staring up at the sky. To distract himself from his dumbass question, Mike focuses on a cloud that looks like the Demogorgon head from his old Dungeons and Dragons game.

“If he tried, maybe,” Lucas says after a silence. “But he never fuckin’ tries.”

“I can’t tell if that’s an insult,” Mike says. “Or a compliment.”

“It’s both,” Will expands. “You’re not atrocious, but like no one will know that unless you put yourself out there.”

“Gee thanks guys,” Mike says, hoping his voice drips sarcasm.

“It could be worse,” Lucas says, swiping grass from his shirt. “You could have no hope whatsoever.”

“Well. At least there’s that,” He says drily.

“You’re fine,” Will says. “But you’d feel better with ice cream.” He leans up to waggles his eyebrows meaningfully.

Mike stares at him then can’t help but laugh a little. “Byers, wanna go get ice cream?”

“Thought  you’d never ask, Wheeler,” Will stands. Lucas just raises an arm, so Will takes the cue to pull him off the dirt.

“Let’s wait for Max to show up-”

“‘Sup losers,” Max says, skateboarding up on the nearby sidewalk. In moves that Mike appreciates but doesn’t fully understand, the red-haired girl jumps off the skateboard and lands in the grass without missing a step. “Sorry I’m late, had to talk to Mr. Kellerman.” Max had gotten a job helping their drama teacher for the summer at the local theater. “We have to get more volunteers for set decorations and guess who I volunteered to help me.”

She sends them all a wicked grin. Mike, Lucas and Will groan, Dustin the only one smiling (because he's a lovestruck idiot.)

“Stop volunteering us for shit, Mayfield,” Lucas sneers at her playfully.

Max flips her braid over shoulder, smirking, “Oh, Slingshot, I’m _so_ scared. Fine, you’re not invited. I really just need your boyfriend and his magic art skills.”

He watches as Will beams at the compliment while Lucas looks around the near-empty park nervously. Will sees his boyfriend’s reaction and his smile falls. Their relationship is still in the closet, which Will doesn’t like (he understands completely but he doesn’t like.)

Mike clears his throat, and rubs his hands together. “Up for ice cream, Max?”

“Like you even have to ask,” Max says, jumping onto her boyfriend’s back. Dustin _oofs_ as he adjusts to carry her. “Onward!”

“Onward!” They all cheer, with Will carrying  and go to find ice cream before they have to back to being adults.

+

Eleven looks around the Wheeler house as Mrs. Wheeler gives her the “rundown” of everything. It’s so different from the Chief’s trailer, big with many floors. It reminds her of Papa’s house, but there are more aspects that feel safe.

The Wheeler house has many pictures of the same five people, and there is a continuous mess. If you left a mess at Papa’s, that meant you got the paddle. There are dishes in the sink and shoes on the floor. Eleven figures you must feel safe here to leave such a mess.

“Here’s the kitchen,” Karen says, walking quickly. Her hands fly around her face, putting shiny metal in her ears and walking around with only one shoe that makes her three inches taller. “We have leftover pasta in the fridge, feel free to heat that in the microwave. Don’t go down to the basement, that’s my son’s room and I’m _certain_ he has yet to clean it in the past month. Holly’s bedtime is 9pm, make sure she gets in her pajamas and brushes her teeth before then. I’ll be back around 10 so feel free to watch TV. She can watch some too, but obviously not after bedtime. Just use your judgment." 

Eleven blinks, not sure what she’s more confused about. What’s a TV? Why would she watch it? Also, why stick metal in your ears?

“Holly _loves_ Barbies, so she’ll want to play with those before dinner. She’ll let you know when she’s hungry. Start the bedtime process around 8:30 because she likes to whine and drag her feet.”

“No I don’t!” Holly whines from her spot in the sofa room in front of a rectangle. “I _never_ whine.”

Karen sends a smile Eleven’s way, like she’s trying to tell her something or share something but Eleven doesn’t know what. But Flo told her it’s “common courtesy” to smile so she smiles back.

“I left the emergency numbers by the fridge. Oh! And my son, Michael, has a late shift tonight, but he should be back late. Do you know him?”

She thinks back to seeing Wheeler, or Michael, at the diner, with his kind eyes and cute hair. Then she thinks to the way his face turned red and then he stopped looking at her.

“No,” She answers.

“It’s a big school,” Mrs. Wheeler says, slipping into her shoes. “But he’s a good kid. I think that’s everything, but call me if you need _anything_. Holly!” She calls for the girl.

Eleven flinches at the sudden noise and imminent punishment she'd have to watch. If Papa ever called out someone’s number, they were going to be taken to the Basement.

Instead, she watches as Mrs. Wheeler kisses Holly on the forehead and says, “Be good for Eleven. I’ll be back tonight. Don’t be awake.”

“Yes, Mom,” Holly says, sweet as sugar. Mrs. Wheeler leaves, and then it’s just Eleven and Holly.

Silence.

“Are you hungry for dinner?” Eleven asks. She was usually in charge of dinner at Papa’s house, as the oldest girl.

Holly shakes her head, hair flying slightly. “Nope. I wanna play Barbies!”

“Barbies?”

Holly freezes, and stares up at her in shock, “You don’t know what Barbies are?”  
Eleven shakes her head, and the younger girl gasps.

“Come on!” Holly grabs her hand and tugs her up the stairs. “You _gotta_ play Barbies! They’re only the best toys ever.”

Eleven lets herself get tugged, not wincing away from the touch. Holly takes her to a purple room and plops them both on the ground. She waddles over on her knees to a box and pulls out these tall plastic things that look like people, kind of.

“These are Barbies,” Holly says slowly, like she’s Chief teaching her a lesson. “And they’re super cool! You can make them dance,” She demonstrates. “Kick.” Demonstrates. “And change their clothes.”

She reaches into the box and pulls out a dress, quickly pulling it over the naked Barbie.

“Wanna play?”

Eleven looks at the several Barbies in the box. “I’m not sure how,” She admits.

“That’s okay,” Holly says. “I’ll teach you. It’s fun. So, for this one, we’re gonna be superheroes! I will be Wonder Woman, she’s the best. She can fly and she’s so _strong_ and she has a lasso that tells people the truth.”

Holly digs into the box and pulls out a tiny gold string.

“How does it do that?”

“She wraps it around people,” She explains and reaches over to grab Eleven’s hand, wrapping the string around a finger. “Now you have to tell me the truth.”

Eleven doesn’t know what to tell the truth on, so she says, “About what?”

Holly’s lips scrunch to the side and then she says, “Why don’t you have hair?”

Eleven hesitates, then looks down at the string around her finger. She answers truthfully, “My old Papa had many children in his house, and he was afraid we’d get lice. So he shaved our heads every month. To keep us clean.”

“Your old Papa?” She seems confused.

“The person I lived with before the Chief.”

“Does the Chief shave your head?”

“No,” Eleven says. “He brushes my hair sometimes, actually.” Papa never brushed her hair. Just shaved it.

“Well, you have very nice hair,” Holly says. “It looks like it’ll be very soft.”

“Is that good?”

“The best,” Holly nods emphatically. “That's what Nancy always told me, anyway. Come on,” She takes the string off of Eleven’s finger and says. “You can watch me play a little, and join in when you want. Okay?”

“Okay,” Eleven says, holding a Barbie in her hands, ready to see whatever this is.


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: The part in italics will show the first hints of the abuse El suffered, so please don't read that if it will make you uncomfortable. Nothing physical, but fair warning all the same. Just skip through the Italics.

Ice cream, in Mike’s opinion, tastes the best during the summer. The warm air that melts the cold dairy, a litany of juxtaposition. Plus, sprinkles fucking rock.

He licks at the ice cream that juts out right above his cone so it doesn’t drip down his hand and finds himself watching his friends again.

Max sits on Dustin’s lap, eating bites from his ice cream cup instead of buying her own. Lucas shoves his cone into Will’s face, causing it to fall on the ground. Will loudly laments the loss of that “perfectly good dessert” as the baseball player laughs.

Max turns to him, and says, “So, Wheels. Can I tell Kellerman you’re in?”

“What do you need me for?” He asks, nearly snorting. He has nothing to offer the drama club, not like his friends.

Lucas is strong, so he can carry things. Will is artistic as hell, so he can paint things. Dustin is already theater-inclined, and he’s been building sets since middle school, so he can do that stuff easily. Max is a powerful mix of talented and terrifying, and she rules the drama club with an iron fist. He usually just tags along and keeps them company if he goes, but usually he had to watch Holly. So his knowledge and expertise is fairly limited in comparison.

“You get shit done,” The redhead says obviously. “Dustin will flirt with me the entire time and these two-” She points at Lucas and Will. “-will flirt with each other. _You_ won’t flirt with anyone.”

“I can flirt with people,” Mike defends himself.

Max gives him a look, “Sure, sweetie. Now, can I count you in or not? I promised Kellerman I’d bring in five people.”

Mike huffs and re-focuses on his ice cream. “You suck.”

“That’s not a no,” Dustin points out, sending Mike a shit-eating grin.

Mike sighs, “Fine, whatever, sure. But not if it affects work or studying, my mom’ll kill me.”

“I can’t believe she’s making you do test prep in _May_ ,” Lucas says, shaking his head as he bites into the cone, all that’s left of his dessert. “Fucked up.”

“Tell me about it,” Mike says. “But Nancy got a near perfect score, so I must too.”

“Nope,” Max says. “Not talking about this. I’m not willing to hear about that bullshit. Anything but test-prep or school or college or future. Got it, weirdoes?”

Silence. Which is kind of depressing. Can they really not think of anything but schoolwork?

“So, M,” Dustin says, turning to his girlfriend. “Do you think Mike would be a stud in college?”

Mike kicks his head back and groans. “How haven’t I killed you yet?” But he’s fairly certain he wasn’t heard, but Max is too busy cackling, and falling off of Dustin’s laugh to the floor of the ice cream parlor.

“Did you just fucking say ‘stud’?” Max asks.

“You’re being awfully rude for someone who needs a favor from me,” Mike points out.

Max wipes at her eyes as he sneaks glances at his friends, who are all covering their mouths in some way to hide their laughter. He sighs.

“Oh, Wheels,” She says fondly. “I’m sure you’ll be a stud at some point. But do you _want_ to?”

“Why are you being so philosophical?” Will snickers.

“I’m trying to prove a point, you dick,” Max rolls her eyes. “Mike isn’t a stud, that would involve being an asshole.”

Mike blinks, “Thanks?”

“That’s fair,” Dustin says. “I didn’t consider that. Mike’s too chill to be an ass.”

“Thanks,” Mike repeats himself, a bit more sure of the fact that this was a compliment.

“But the assholes get all the girls,” Dustin says with a grin.

“That explains everything,” Mike deadpans, causing Dustin to throw the remains of his cone at Mike’s chest.

“Guys!” Will exclaims as the rest of them laugh. “Stop wasting perfectly good ice cream!”

+

Eleven stares at Holly’s room now that the girl isn’t in it or distracting her with dolls. It’s so purple and big and soft. As Holly brushes her teeth in the nearby bathroom, she looks at one of the stuffed animals on the bed. It’s a tiny lion, reminding Eleven of the one toy Papa would let her have. But this one is much softer. Absently, her fingers run over the fabric.

“Brushed!” Holly says, bouncing into the room, already in her pajamas. She smiles wide and breathes minty freshness onto her babysitter’s face.

Eleven smiles and says, “Very good. What does Mrs. Wheeler do to get you to sleep?”

“She lets me eat candy,” Holly flutters her eyelashes.

Eleven taps her on the nose, because she felt like she had to. “No.” Hopper specifically warned her against this tactic before she came.

Holly pouts but hops into her bed, snuggling under the covers. “She reads to me. Did you bring _Gatsby_?”

Eleven shakes her head, “No. I will next time.”

“Yay!” Holly says, snuggling her lion closer. “Read to me. Please.”

“Read what?” Eleven asks, feeling bad she forgot the book. But also, as Holly snuggles into bed, something wretched sinks her stomach. And she doesn’t know what.

“I dunno... I have _Grimm’s_!” She points to a book on the floor. Eleven swallows, familiar with the collection. “Can you read that?”

But Holly looks so happy to read it. So Eleven grabs the book and starts reading at the very beginning, “In olden times when wishing still helped one, there lived a king whose daughters were all beautiful, but the youngest was so beautiful that the sun itself, which has seen so much, was astonished whenever it shone in her face...”

Eleven reads and reads until Holly is asleep. She turns the remaining light off, and looks at the small girl as she sleeps. She feels something clench in her chest and, suddenly, she’s back at Papa’s house.

_Poor 832 couldn’t sleep without crying. She had gotten better about being silent after Papa punished her the week or so before. She was so small and so scared._

_011 was supposed to take care of her, so she cuddled the smaller girl in her bed, desperate for something to help._

_That night, 832 slept the best she had yet._

_In the morning, it was ruined. Papa came knocking on the door, asking if they were presentable. 011 quickly left the bed and jumped into her own._

_“Yes, Papa,” All ten girls in the room said, pulling their covers over themselves. Papa entered, a stern man with silver hair and no smiles. His eyes immediately found hers, and dread sunk her stomach._

_“011, are you awake?”_

_“Yes, Papa,” She said, alone this time._

_He ordered him to follow her, so she left her warm bed, wearing the paper-thin nightgown he made them all wear. He took her down to the Basement, and she felt unshed tears fill behind her eyes. Did he know she broke the rules about sleeping in someone else’s bed? Was she going to get punished?_

_Instead, when she got down there, she saw a boy taller than her. His hair was already shaved down, and his eyes were bloodshot and wide. He stared at her in fear._

_“This is 309,” Papa said. “He just joined us. Please give him the tour.”_

_“Yes, Papa,” She said. He often made her help the newcomers, since she’d been there the longest. But most of them had been much younger than her. This one might be her age. Maybe even older, he's almost as tall as Papa. “Follow me,” She told the boy. His eyes darted around like they were following a fly, but he followed her._

_As soon as they went to the kitchen, he grabbed her arm and said, “Where am I?”_

_She shook him free instantly, not liking the touch. “At Papa’s house.”_

_“What the fuck happened to my hair?” He asked, clutching at the shaved remains._

_“It’s unclean to keep it long,” She repeated what Papa had told her many times, not sure what ‘fuck’ meant._

_The boy slapped his palms over his face and said “fuck” again. She said nothing as he slid to the floor. “I don’t belong here.”_

_“Where do you belong?” 011 asked._

_The boy started to cry, and whispered, “I don’t remember.”_

Eleven is thrown from the dream back into the present when something slams downstairs. She takes a deep breath and reminds herself of the important things, like Chief tells her when she’s nervous. She’s not in Papa’s house. She’s at the Wheeler’s house. Papa is in jail. He can’t get to her. He can’t get to 309 and he can’t get to Holly.

She shuts the door to Holly’s room and stands in front of it, trying to breathe like Flo taught her.

The noise happens again and Eleven jumps in fear. She looks at Holly’s door again and remembers what Flo said.

 _And you make sure she stays safe_.

So Eleven walks down the stairs to make sure there’s no one bad in the house.

And bumps right into a tall figure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a bit hesitant to update further than this. I do like this idea, but now that stranger things 2 is released I feel the characterization of this is off. I also have other ideas with similar premises I'd rather work on. I don't want you guys to beg for updates on this because that's just self-aggrandizing, but would you guys rather read this or other fics? I'm curious.


	5. Chapter 4

Mike yelps, a decidedly childish sound, and the person in front of him flinches. In the minimal light of the house, he can see it’s the girl that Chief Hopper adopted, the quiet one with no hair. Shit, what was her name?

To make sure, he blindly reaches over and turns on the lights. They both jump once more now that they can actually see each other.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” He demands, a bit harsher than he intended.

Her mouth opens, but she doesn’t say anything.

“How did you get in here?” Why isn’t she answering him? Is Holly okay?

“Babysitting,” She says. It’s such a soft sound, and she looks so scared. He kind of feels like a dick, but he needs to know more. “She’s fine. Asleep.”

“Wait,” Mike clears his throat because the adrenaline rush he was just feeling is dissipating. But he still feels on edge. “ _You’re_ Holly’s new babysitter?”

She nods, “Yes.”

“I- I don’t know what to say,” Mike says honestly. Her head cocks at him, and he suddenly notices her eyes are _very_ pretty. Shit, what’s wrong with him? She’s a _stranger_ in his _house._

Before either of them say anything, the door opens and they both jump. His mom walks in, looking well dressed but tired.

“Oh Michael, I wasn’t expecting you home already, how was work?” She asks like there’s nothing strange about this girl in their house.

“It was fine, who’s this?” He asks, tilting his head in her direction.

“That’s Eleven, she’s Chief Hopper’s daughter,” His mom kicks off her shoes. _Eleven? Her name is Eleven? Her_ real _name? It’s a goddamn number._ “She’s Holly’s babysitter now, since you have your job at Benny’s. It was her first night here.”

Eleven says nothing. Mike doesn’t either.

“How was Holly?” Mom asks Eleven, like this isn’t a strange thing at all. “I hope she behaved herself.”

Eleven nods. If he’s not mistaken, she even smiles a little. “She was very good. I read her _Grimm’s_. She ate her dinner. And I cleaned her mess.”

“Oh god, did she make a mess?” His mom sighs. “I’ll talk to her-”

“No!” Eleven nearly shouts, causing both Mike and his mom to flinch back as she practically jumps between his mom and the stairwell. She shivers slightly before saying, “Just the dishes. It was nothing.”

Her head cocks a bit, but she says nothing. Mike, at a loss, finally takes off his shoes and jacket.

“I have an early day tomorrow,” He lies. “I’m gonna go down to my room.”

“Tell me all about work tomorrow,” Karen kisses his cheek. He oddly feels embarrassed, so he quickly goes downstairs.

Jesus. What is that girl doing in his house?

He makes sure he shuts the door _and_ locks it. He practically flops on his bed. His feet, which had been hurting from the strain of standing for several hours straight, ache at the relief. He tries to just relax a moment, but his jeans’ button digs into his stomach. Not to mention the odd, nagging feeling of seeing Eleven in his house.

Instead of trudging back upstairs for the phone (in case she’s there), Mike reluctantly gets off his bed and fires up his old Supercomm. Plus, using the radio severely limits his chances of talking to Erica, and that girl is kinda terrifying.

He listens to the familiar crackle, and has to click through three channels before he finds the one Lucas is on. He’s shocked when he gets clear static, does Lucas keep his charged after all these years?

“Lucas, are you there? Over.”

“ _Jesus_ ,” Lucas’s voice comes through after a moment. “ _You almost gave me a heart attack. Why do you still have this?_ ”

Mike feels the familiar urge to correct him on proper radio etiquette but then remembers he’s not fucking 12.

“You still have yours,” Mike points out, changing into some shorts to sleep in.

“ _Fair_ ,” Lucas acquiesces as Mike struggles out of his shoes without tipping over. “ _What’s up?_ ” It’s oddly reassuring that Lucas doesn’t really fight the old method of communication, just rolls with it.

Mike considers how to go about his question, then realizes he has no idea what to ask. With no plan, he just says, “What do you know about the kid Chief Hopper adopted?”

Lucas says nothing for a long moment, and wonders if he lost him.

Finally, his voice crackles through, “ _Why?_ ”

Mike hesitates, then thinks of the way Eleven looked small and terrified talking to him. He was used to people being small around him, now that he was pushing 6’2. But not terrified.

Then he remembers how her hands flew out, when it seemed like his mom was mad. She was completely ready to throw herself into a battle to protect Holly.

It was oddly sweet.

“No reason,” He ends up lying, feeling this weird urge to protect the smaller girl. “I had just saw her...” He tried to think of a reasonable place to catch a sight of her, then ending up saying “...around today.”

“ _Stay away from her_ ,” Lucas intones, sounding a bit tense.

Mike’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Why?”

“ _She’s... weird, man. I haven’t heard much about her, isn’t that weird?_ ”

“But how is it _bad_?”

Lucas takes the time to catch his huff over the radio waves, causing Mike to roll his eyes at his dramatics. “ _Think about it. Is there anyone else in town that you can say you know nothing about?_ ”

Mike has to admit, that’s a fair point. Hawkins is a lethal combination of small and boring. Other than a weird FBI investigation in January, nothing happens there. And everyone knows everybody else’s business. He knows more about people he’s met once than the girl who’s babysitting his baby sister.

And realizing that makes something twist deep in his stomach.

“ _I’ll look into her, maybe Erica knows something. I’ll keep you updated._ ” Lucas offers.

Mike nods absently, then remembers he’s using the Supercomm. “Right yeah, sounds good.”

“ _Over and out_.”

“Over and out.”

He turns off his Supercomm, and his fingers fiddle with it in his hands, lightly tossing it between as he sits on the edge of his bed.

He needs to know more about this Eleven Hopper.  

+

Eleven sits in the passenger seat of the Chief’s car in silence. Chief is quiet too, and she isn’t sure what to do with that. He isn’t particularly talkative today, and normally he asks her about her school day.

Now, there’s nothing to ask about since school is over. But she expected him to leave her be, but he seems to be taking more care of her now, like how she used to take care of the younger ones at the Home, or Holly at the Wheelers.

“Why can’t _you_ answer my questions?” She asks as Chief drives her through Hawkins. She’d been living there almost six months, but she still couldn’t really fathom how big the town was, and she got lost frequently. Luckily, she didn’t go places much.  

When she asked him about help with babysitting, he just kind of stared at her blankly, then said they were going for a car ride.

Chief snorts, a huff of breath. “Kid, I was _never_ a babysitter. You need an expert.”

“Who’s an expert?”

“We’re going to Joyce’s, you remember her, my small friend? She used to babysit when we were your age,” His fingers flex on the steering wheel. Eleven smiles a little, she _loves_ Joyce’s house. It’s like being inside a sweater, it’s so warm and soft.

For the first four months after she moved into Chief’s, he’d take her to Joyce’s almost once a week. They’d all have dinner so she could meet people. But then they stopped a couple weeks ago. She misses Joyce, and misses Jonathan and Will, her sons.

“But friend _might_ be stretching it these days,” He mumbles but she hears him.

“What does that mean?”

“It means I was an idiot about a month ago, and she hasn’t forgiven me yet,” He says, and then he looks at her briefly out of the corner of his eye. “That’s a thing you women do, and it pisses me off.”

Eleven frowns pensively, even though she’s kind of pleased to be thought of as a grown ‘woman’ instead of a helpless ‘girl.’ “Have you asked for forgiveness yet?”

He says nothing.

“If you haven’t,” She says. “You should. You told me that.”

Chief sighs. “You’re tough, kid.”

She’s not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing, so she says nothing this time around.

In the ride, she finds herself thinking of 309. She’s been thinking of him more and more, lately. Flashes of his face, his hands chopping wood, his dark skin getting the House’s tattoo. She remembers his scrap paper, tucked hastily in a pillow case.

_“011, my memory is coming back,” He told her, when they were both tasked with cleaning the basement. He was the first person to call her 011, and not Zero-One-One. “I don’t belong here, and I know you don’t either.”_

_She cocked her head. If she didn’t belong there, where was she supposed to go?_

_Used to her not speaking, he said, “I have a plan." He reached into his thin pillowcase and pulled out a small scrap piece of paper. "I’ve been charting Papa’s routines and I know the best way to sneak out. There’s gonna be a storm soon, the radio told me. We just need to run away then to hide the noise. I can get us out of here!”_

_He looked so smiley. She had never seen him smile so wide._

_“Me too?” She asked._

_He nodded, “Of course. We’re together on this.”_

_“The kids,” She realized, lips closing. She pictured the faces of the other children. “What about them?”_

_309 bit his lip, “We have to leave them behind.”_

_“Three-” She started to say his number, shaking her head._

_“011, listen to me,” He reached for her, but stopped as she flinched. “You have to trust me. We’ll come back for them. We’ll get them help. But we have to leave_ first _. Do you understand?”_

_She hesitated, but then she nodded._

“You okay, kid?” Chief asks, and his voice shatters 309’s concerned eyes.

“I am,” She lies. What happened next terrified her too much to revisit, and she would rather not talk about it at all. Not even to him.

Soon enough, they pull in front of the house. Joyce sits on the porch chair outside, smoking. When Eleven gets out of the truck, Joyce perks up. She, thankfully, doesn’t reach out to touch her. Just waves.

“Hello, Eleven,” She greets, stubbing out the cigarette because she knows she hates the smell. “What can I do for you-”

“I’m sorry, Joyce,” Hopper blurts out, causing Eleven and Joyce to look at him in surprise. “I shouldn’t have- I shouldn’t have done what I did. I’m- I’m sorry.”

Eleven blinks. She hadn’t known the Chief for long, but he had never done that before.

Joyce smiles a little, softly. “We’re okay, Hop. Always have been, always will be.”

The young girl stared at the two adults as the tall man wrapped an arm around his friend. Before, she was barely curious about what happened a month ago. Now, she wanted to ask. But she thinks that breaks one of Hopper’s “politeness rules,” one of which is: “ _Don’t butt into someone else’s business.”_

She’s still learning how people interact outside the Home, but she feels this qualifies.

They’re still just looking at each other, and she only has a couple hours before she has to get to the Wheelers, so Eleven says, “I need babysitting tips. Can you help me?”

Joyce looks back at Chief and cocks her head. “What about Sara-”

Chief starts speaking quickly, “This is a different skill-set entirely. Besides, you were the best babysitter in Hawkins.”

Joyce rolls her eyes, “Doubt that. But come in, Will made cookies last night.”

Eleven perks up, Will is the best baker. She had missed him.

“He’s at work, but he won’t mind if we eat some. So, Miss Eleven, what are your questions?” Joyce guides her into the Byers house.

She looks back at Hopper, but he just sends her a smile before ruffling her hair and following them inside.

A wave of nerves courses through her, at how badly everything with 309 went. She isn’t good at this, and she shouldn’t mess with Holly.

She opens her mouth, but Joyce is already sitting at the table with the cookies.

The cookies smell so good.

Eleven sits down as well. She should at least get _some_ tips. Besides, she promised Holly that they could read Chapter 6 of _Great Gatsby_.

Holly isn’t 309. She’ll be okay, the both of them. And probably even better if she listens to Joyce. So she asks her questions, in the safety of the Byers' house, and hopes for the best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not mean to leave you guys on that cliffhanger for so long, this chapter was just really hard to write lol. Thank you so much for your sweet comments, they totally helped!!
> 
> Also update: I misorganized this chapter and published it twice. I’ll update with the new chapter soon!


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry about the repost!! it's been a week. Don't worry, the next chapters should come out quicker.

“Maybe I should quit my job,” Mike says, a week or so after he started it. His mom, who was making breakfast, laughs a little in surprise.

“Really? I thought you loved it.”

“I do,” Mike admits. “But with your job, and Dad working in Indianapolis, and Nancy in New York, I should watch Holly.”

“She has Eleven to watch her,” Karen says. “And you like working with Will and Benny.”

“But what do we really _know_ about Eleven?” He stresses. “Did you even run a background test on her?”

She laughs, “A background test? C’mon now, Michael, let’s be serious-”

“I am! Don’t you even know the rumors about her-?” Mike winces, cutting himself off. Shit, he didn’t mean to say that.

“Rumors? I thought we raised you better than that,” She chides him. 

He can’t let this go. He knew about Eleven before, but seeing her the other day? It's weird. He needs to at least try to reason with her. “Mom, are you seriously saying you haven’t heard the sh- _stuff_ they’re saying about her? She was the biggest deal back in January.”

Mike remembers it well. When the girl with the shaved hair and wide brown eyes first came to Hawkins High, everyone was shocked. He heard rumors about her, some reasonable like she was adopted from a bad home and some crazy, like she had escaped from a mental institution or was a scientific experiment gone awry.

“I’m just saying,” He says. “Rumors _are_ bad, but sometimes there's truth. Don’t you want to protect Holly?”

“Holly and Eleven get along very well,” His mom defends the babysitter, then goes back to cooking. Then, after a moment, she says quietly, “What do they say about her?”

Mike exhales slowly, “Lots of stuff. Like she escaped from a cult, or from Pennhurst. A lot of people believe it because of the hair.”

“Oh that’s ridiculous,” His mother says. “Do you _really_ think the Chief of Police would adopt someone from a mental asylum?”

Mike holds up his hand, using the other to put his dish in the sink. “I’m not saying I believe it,” He says, only partially lying. He believes the one about her being adopted from a bad home. She’s very fidgety and alert in class when other people aren’t paying attention. Like when a pencil dropped in Biology and she jumped a foot in the air.

“I’m just repeating it,” He continues. “Have you asked her about the hair? Or anything?”

“Of course not, that’s rude,” She says. “Besides, the important thing is that Holly likes her. Holly!” She calls for his younger sister. “You like Eleven, don’t you?”

His freshly-awake sister smiles wide as she bounces into the room, “Yes! I love Eleven. She reads to me and makes mac and cheese and plays with dolls. She’s so cool!”

“Is she watching you today?” He asks. He was planning on studying in the Library with Dustin then helping Max at the Theater, but he can ditch that if she is. He’d much rather watch her than leave her with Eleven if he can help it.

Holly shakes her head, “No. I’m going to work with Mommy today.”

He looks to his mom, relieved.

“It’s supposed to be a light day at the office,” She explains. “I thought Holly might like to tag along and Eleven might like a break.”

Mike nods, “That’s a good plan. She’s been watching Holly a lot.”

His mother narrows her eyes at him, and he just smiles innocently. “I’m going to the Library. Want me to grab you something, Hols?”

She shakes her head, “Eleven and I are still reading _Gatsby._ When we finish, yes.”

Mike nods and ruffles her hair. “Well, I’m off to meet Dustin. See you guys later.”

As Mike drives to Hawkins Library, he starts to wonder if he’s overreacting. His mom is right, the important thing is that Holly likes Eleven.

Plus, if he doesn’t have to babysit Holly, he has more time to hang with his friends. And they’re about to go off to college, and he wonders if they’ll stop talking when they have distance between them.

He pulls into a parking spot right next to Dustin’s. When he gets out, Dustin is waiting for him like an upset mother whose child just snuck in past curfew.

“You’re late, bastard,” Dustin says, leaning against his car.

Mike sneers. It’s too early for sarcasm. “You’re the one that said 8:30.”

Dustin snickers at him and grabs him by the elbow. “C’mon, time for our curiosity voyage.”

“You’re a dork.”

+

It’s been about two weeks since Eleven first babysat Holly, and she’s found herself enjoying it. She watches the girl nearly every day, for varying hours. Holly is such a good kid, and she’s gotten better at cleaning up after herself. She always helps now.

“It’s gonna thunder tonight,” Holly says as she scrubs a dish. Eleven looks out the kitchen window. Storm clouds approach them in a staggering amount, the summer sky looking dark and dull.

Eleven shuddered, and she was back at the House.

_011 woke to 309 shaking her. She was tucked in bed, and his face was right by hers. She could see it in the shadows, but then it was illuminated by a flash of lightning._

_“It’s the perfect time,” He whispered, tugging her out of bed gently. He wrapped a shower towel around her. “C’mon-”_

_She looked out the window, “It’s so dark and cold-”_

_“It’s perfect for hiding in, it’s now or never” He said. “Do you understand?”_

_Thunder boomed. And she nodded. They ran, they ran as far as they could-_

“Eleven?” Holly tugs at her shirtsleeve. “Eleven, did you fall asleep?”

Eleven shudders slightly then smiles at the young girl reassuringly. “No, just distracted. How’s the plate?”

Holly holds up the plate excitedly, “Look how clean it is!”

“Very clean,” Eleven agrees, taking the plate to the stack in the cupboard. “Want me to read to you?”

Holly beams, “Yes, please!”

“I’ll grab the book, you get into your sleep clothes,” The older girl says.

“‘Sleep clothes,’” Holly giggles as she goes up the stairs. “They’re _jammies_.”

“Then get in your _jammies_ ,” Eleven laughs, and turns to her bag to grab _the Great Gatsby._ As she does, she hears a distant boom of thunder and she drops the book.

 _You’re not at the House,_ She tells herself. _You’re safe. You’re away from Papa. Holly needs you to take care of her_.

She goes upstairs to find Holly already in bed, practically buzzing with excitement. “Did you brush?”

Holly bares her teeth and huffs a breath at Eleven.

“Very good,” Eleven rewards her. “Ready for more _Gatsby?_ ”

Holly nods, digging her chin under the blanket. Eleven turns off all the lights except the lone necessary lamp and begins to read.

_“It was when curiosity about Gatsby was at its highest that the lights in his house failed to go on one Saturday night...”_

Eleven reads until Holly falls asleep. She turns off the lamp and sneaks out of the room to go downstairs. Mrs. Byers suggested to her during her “info session” that she should make sure the house is cleaner than when she came.

She starts to clean the remnants of mess from the kitchen, when she notices how dark it is through the window. Makes sense, it’s nearly 9. But then she sees rain droplets streaking down the glass.

She gulps tightly, then flinches when thunder crashes like a bunch of plates. Holly was right about the thunderstorm, and that makes her tense. Like she was when she tried to escape.

_Outside the house, 011 hesitated. She let the rain soak her, and the grass squish beneath her feet._

_309 doubled back and grabbed her wrist. “C’mon, we don’t know when he’ll wake up-”_

_“The others,” 011 interrupted him, lifting her head defiantly. She was not going to back down. “We come back for them.”_

_309 nodded at her, “Yes we will. But we can’t help them if we don’t leave.”_

_She nodded, and swallowed down her fears. “We can do this.”_

_He smiled slightly at her, “We can do this.”_

Then the memories change to flashes. The paddle. The bruises. 309’s disappearance. The rain. The thunder, so much thunder, why couldn’t she have just fucking _said_ something-

The thunder booms and she yelps, staggering backwards. She drops a plate and it shatters. She starts to sob, breaking as well.

She looks around the kitchen, and it’s stifling. The walls grow closer, her chest gets right. It’s like the home, it’s so scary and big.

She flings open the door and runs into the woods.


End file.
